Death and the Devil (LOST Universe)
by Silentbeliever12
Summary: This story looks into the colorful history of the primary antagonist of season four, Martin Christopher Keamy. It will eventually end up on the Island with Keamy's (possible) death. I hope you enjoy! Rated M for suggestive themes and major cursing. Also, sex in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

He was the devil. And I should know-I had sold my soul to him over a decade before. We were fire and death. And he was the love of my life.

Part One

It was just another crapshoot in Uganda. The goal was to get in and get out-nothing I hadnt done a million times before. A student had been assassinated only 3 weeks earlier by the Opposition party. Civil and political unrest had taken its toll. Once a country that boasted western ideals, it had suddenly gone the other way. And violently. My job was to get in, kill the head of the opposition party, and get out. A nice, fat paycheck was waiting on me once I got stateside-and a little vigilante justice never hurt anyone. I thoroughly enjoyed assignments like this one. My price tag was about to go way up, and my value was what had kept me alive in this godforsaken world thus far.

I stepped into the local watering hole about twenty to eight. A couple of patrons looked up at me appreciatively, but the look on my face must of warned them of my mood as no one got up from their chairs. Johan Wamala Higenyi wasnt due for his meeting with the other organizers for another three hours. They were meeting in a nearby tenement, so close that I just had to look our the window to see my destination. All I had to do was to wait until the end of the meeting and pick him off as he was leaving the venue. There was so much unrest in the country at this time that no one would guess that the shooter was a 30 year old American female. My disguise nearly rendered me asexual. I was covered head to toe in brown rags, and my short brown wig wouldn't arouse too much suspicion. Even if someone did happen to see me, I would melt into the night before anyone could do anything about it.

It would be like taking candy from a baby. The biggest issue would be leaving the country after the fact, but my employer assured me that a plane would be waiting on a nearby tarmac to fly me to the UK. From there I could do home for a while. 3.4 million dollars. My mind reeled at the prospects. I didn't doubt that my employer was good for the cash. Mr. Widmore was an infinetly wealthy man, with businesses all over Britain. However, he did not seem to be a particularly sentimental man, and the assassination of Higenyi stuck a chord with me. It just didn't make any sense. But I knew better than to ask questions. Asking questions bought you a bullet to the head. I wasn't a dumb bunny.

"Give me a mug of the best beer you have on tap, cause I'm not paying for it," I muttered to the bartender in Swahilli as I sat down at the end of the table. As a general rule, I never drank too much before taking someone out. It was bad form, after all. But the money always made my head swim a little bit, and I restled with dreams of buying my own Island and just retiring. Plus, I found that a little buzz kept me calmer when the moment came. The bartender nodded at me and slid the mug across the table. I slapped some bills down. "Keep filling it back up until I tell you to go the hell away." His eyes grew wide at the sight of the bills and pocketed them hastily with a respectful "Yes, miss." The word made me chuckle to myself. I hadn't been a Miss for many years now. Hard to be a Miss when you are sliding your knife into some poor fools skull.

I settled in to the stool and gazed up at the photographs on the wall. There were all pictures of patrons, (who were most likely tourists), and some of the local wildlife. I'd never cared too much for this part of the world. There were too many battles going on at one time. It was a dangerous place to be in general. Which is what surprised me the most about the assignment. Why bother? If I took this guy out, surely there would be someone to take his place. My hand dropped to my shirt pocket which held a recent picture of Higenyi. He must have done something else. Something worth shutting him up over. And the possibilities for that were endless. My bets were on drugs. Most everything went back to drugs.

There was a rickety old jukebox sitting in the corner, playing some song I didn't know. I let my mind drift in time with the music. This is just what I had needed. Not too much time had passed before my ears perked up to the sound of something familar. English. I ventured a glance back at the door flew open and three huge guys all decked out in riot gear flew into the bar. Their passage caused quite a stir with the locals, and several of them got up to leave as soon as the men had passed. They mocked eachother as they came to the bar, and laughed uproariously as the shorter one (still over six feet tall though, I had no doubt and with wicked brown eyes) kicked a scrawny patron off from one of the stools.

"Get the fuck out of here, faggot." He laughed again as the man scurried out of his way. He plopped down into the stoll on the far end while the other guys followed suit.

Then it hit me. It was not just the English. They were American, except for maybe the middle one who had an accent I just could place. But they were all military, by the looks of it. All had the telltale haircut of an infantryman. There was the shorter and pugnosed brunette, who I dubbed "Asshole, almost immediantly. Then there was the accented brunette, who was quieter-but who still reminded me a bit of Animal Mother from Full Metal Jacket. And then there was the last, a tree of a man and blonde-who came to sit by me. He was obviously their leader-the other two would keep looking at him as they told their dirty jokes. I tuned out the majority of it, with only a f-bomb slipping through every now and then. It occured to me that these guys could be trouble for me, especially considering how much I knew good-old-boys could drink. So much for me being inconspicous. The bartender appeared to refill my mug and I nodded at him.

"You don't look like a beer girl." The blonde one took his shot of whiskey and slammed it back down on the table. "In fact, you don't look like a girl who should be fucking around in Uganda these days. Don't you know what kind of shit is going down? Girl like you could get killed around here." This must have struck the other two as being funny-they guffawed and the middle one slapped him on the back.

I rolled my eyes and refocused my stare on the pictures. "I'll take my chances, asshole. And i'll take a good beer over one of those little fruity fucks that every bitch keeps ordering these days." I sipped at my beer. "Now, fuck off."

He tsked at me. "Language. I guess i'll tuck my tail in between my legs then, right?" He laughed. "Guess what they said about redheads is true. Or southern girls, I guess you can take your pick." He grinned triumphantly. I didn't need to look at him to know it was there. It dripped from his tone.

My heart stopped. I tugged at the edge of my wig and glared at him. I was def noticed now! How in the holly hell could he have me pegged so quickly? I was so angry that I could have punched him right then and there, but I knew better than to lose it with a guy like this. It was most likely what he wanted. I didn't reply, though, (as much as I wanted to) and this seemed to take the wind out of his sails. He motioned for the other guys to go (and by motioned I mean told them to fuck off) to the pool table and they got up obediantly enough.

"Guess I hit a nerve. I tell you what, let me buy you a shot of some real alcohol, you tell me whatever lie you want, and I'll ignore everything I may or may not figure out about you. Deal?"

I sighed and looked directly for the first time into his bright blue eyes. "Deal. Bartender, bring me a doubleshot of whatever he's drinking!" The bartender laid the beverage down and I threw it back without hesitation. Mr. Blue Eyes followed the movement with some amusement but chose not to comment. I considered this a wise choice. Maybe he wasn't as dumb as his friends appeared to be. I could hear them placing bets from the nearby pooltable-but they didn't seem to be paying any attention to our exchange. This was also wise. I relaxed the tiniest bit. "So, are you marines? Got to be marines. No one willingly orders a four horsemen unless they've had training in drinking."

He laughed; a deep throaty sound. "Not active, but once a Marine, always a Marine." He hesitated. "Except for Will. He's just a fucking tool. Good guy, just not too bright." He motioned for another shot and drank it quickly. "Since you know about me, how about you lie to me about what you're doing here?"

"I can only guess you and your buddies are up to no good. I don't care to know. Just a statement of fact." I sipped at another mug of beer. The shot mixed with 4 beers were def beginning to hit me. I decided to cool it for the rest of the night or I was going to miss my target and my big fat paycheck. "I'm a journalist, though," I lied smoothtly, "And off duty American military hanging out in the slums of Uganda sounds like front page material to me." I smirked at him.

"You're a bad fucking liar." He widened his eyes. "I mean, oh no! A journalist? I'm so scared." His voice dropped on the last word and met my eyes again. He leaned in closer. I could feel his warm breath on my face, and the familiar smell of alcohol reassured-rather than concerned-me."You don't have to be a bitch, you know. If I had meant you harm, I would of already done something about that. You dont have to attack me every second."

Chargined, I looked down at my mug. My hands fiddled with the handle. "Force of habit. Thank you for the drink." I got up. I still had 2 hours to kill, but this exceptionally observant man had given me a bad feeling about the whole operation. I needed to bounce. I scooted around the barstool only to be barred by a long muscular arm. He was wearing a white tank top and i could see the edges of a tattoo on his shoulder. I met his gaze. "If you want to keep that arm, blondie, I would suggest putting it back by your side."

"You saying you'll rip it off? And Blondie?!" His arm flexed and I felt the movement through my thin shirt. He was very muscular, indeed. I smiled at him. It felt like a genuine smile. I was more than used to lame comeons by men in bars. The familiarity struck me all over again. Maybe he was more interested in sex with me than in what I was doing here in the first place. That was okay. There was no harm in a little flirting.

"Maybe, Blondie." I punched weakly at the arm and he laughed.

"I'd like to see that. It that the only thing you'll rip off?" He gave me another one of those triumphant smirks. His cockiness apparently knew no bounds. I laughed again at the cheeziness of it and sat back down. His eyes followed the movement, but he chose not to gloat. Again, a wise move. Maybe I really was underestimating this guy.

"You must like women to fight you. You almost look like youre having fun."

He kept his arm up on the stool, moving his hand to the broad of my back. "I usually scare women or they're too dumb to know better than to run away. I like a challenge."

We talked for a little while the sounds of the bar and the jukebox movement faded into the background. Absentmindedly, he let his hands massage circles into my back as he told me about his service and where he grew up. He grew up in Las Vegas which didn't surprise me in the slightest. His tanned skin screamed warmth and sunlight. He chose not to ask me any questions, and I chose not to offer much about myself. I relaxed into his touch and let him talk. I liked his voice. He was a arrogant Alpha-Male, that was true. But he was also a tough and resilient fighter, if his service was any indication. Finally, he stopped his ministrations, causing me to glance up from my drink. "How drunk do you have to be to dance with me?"

I laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question. He really was quite charming once you got past the cursing and the bulls*. "Dancing? You def don't strike me as a dancer, Tree." My eyes widened at the thought of him holding me. Just his hand on my back was sending little electrical impulses up and down my body.

"I'm not. It's fucking gay. But I want a good excuse to put my hands on you. I could do it anyway-and you'd want me to," I snorted at this, but he continued on. "But I'm just drunk enough to not be a complete jerkoff." He grinned and ran his free hand through his short hair. "What do you say?"

"I'd say you are a complete and total jerk off. But I'm drunk enough so go for it."

He got up from the stool and strolled over to the old beat up juke box (I didn't even know they still made them like that), and put some money in the slot before coming back. A slow song came over the speakers and he extended a hand to me. I hestitated for just a second before I taking it. His big hand closed around mine and he pulled me to my feet. This was the first time I could really appreciate our total height difference. He was much bigger than I had originally anticipated, putting him a whole foot taller than me. He was also just, for lack of a word, big. It was more than just a little bit intimidating. I swallowed and let him led me to the floor.

His arms wrapped around my waist like a vice, and I could feel his muscles flexing in and out on his arms and his chest. It occurred to me-a bit too late-that he could easily kill me here in our confined space. He could snap my torso like it was nothing. This was a lethal man. This was a man who understood death as much as I did. I let my hand trace one of the scars near his throat. It was faint, almost invisible by this point, but it was caution enough for me. In spite of my reservations, I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed his scent in. He smelled good. Clean and simple testosterone, that was what this man oozed. He guided me to the music, swaying just a little-nothing fancy. I felt a bulge underneath his shirt, near his throat and I played with it a bit. His dogtag. I pulled it out and stole a glance. He twitched a little at the contact, but didn't choose to comment.

"So Fsgt M Keamy. I guess I can finally make your aquaintance. What does the M stand for?" I righted the little tag in the front and tucked it underneath his shirt. His body twitched again at the contact of my hands on his skin. Internally, I was hopping up and down. I loved the feel of his muscles on me. I reveled in the fact that just my touch could affect this powerful man. I let my hands play at the nape of his neck, desperate for any reason to touch him more.

"Martin. But you can just call me Chris." His hands squeezed on my hips and rocked them against him ever so slightly. I enjoyed the sensation of his pressure and the friction it caused between us. I pulled myself a little bit closer to him, stretching up on the ends of my toes. I pulled his head down to meet my eyes, biting my lower lip as I did so. His eyes tracked the movement like a hawk.

"Chris-I'm Ivy."

"Ivy." His voice was soft, the first time he wasn't radiating badass and arrogance. The change sent a chill down the length of my spine. We stopped moving. His eyes locked on mine, and all of a sudden he was on me.

I didn't even have a chance. The kiss was rough and forceful and everything I could have dreamed it could be. His hands pulled my hips up and onto him and we were moving. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us to the dark corner of the bar with little effort. His tounge swiped at my lips and I greedily granted him entrance. He was dangerous, he was powerful, and he was everywhere. His hands were on my hips, in the small of my back...at one point I came up for air and his right hand came up to guide my lips back to his. My hands clutched at his chest and I could feel his heart racing underneath my palms. Against my better judgement, I grinded against him, ellicting a groan from him. His lips left mine to nip at my throat, causing an almost painful sensation that set me on fire.

All I could see was red. I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking bad. It took everything within me to keep my hands from drifting my hands downwards-that's all it would take, and we both knew it. All it would take is one wrong move, and we'd lose control. Instead I came back to his chest and with every ounce of willpower that I had- I ever so slightly pushed him back. I wasn't even sure he'd feel it, but he did. He broke the kiss with hesitation, and rested his forehead against mine while still holding me against the wall with my legs around his waist.

"Can't." He said, more in response to something he thought than to my pushing him away.

"Can't." I said, with a little more conviction. My heart thrummed with want. "Have somewhere to be," I gasped out. The kiss had left me more than breathless. "DO you think you could-um...put me down." He startled and backed up from the wall a step, allowing me to detangle myself from him. I looked at my watch and grimaced. I had 30 minutes before I had to take Hygenyi out. I took one step toward him a stretched up to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "Maybe we'll meet again in another life." I started towards the door, not looking back, even as I heard his response.

"Maybe we will."


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

The heat struck me the moment I walked out of the bar. Even though it was well past sunset, the temperature had still only dropped to about eighty two degrees. I thought longingly of the snow that was sure to be falling back in the mountains where I'd grown up. I would have given anything to be there again, but some things just weren't possible. No, I couldn't ever go back to my home town again. Too many bad things had happened.

I settled into position about thirty yards from the tenement with a dark alleyway cloaking my presence. I pulled the small Rugar from the small of my back and held it at my side with the muzzle pointed at the ground. Traditionally, I would have had better set up, complete with a rifle and a better vantage point. But Mr. Widmore had wanted the assassination to look like a simple mugging and in order to do that, I needed to be up close and personal. That is why the extra cash had been promised to me. Mugging type assassinations were more risky but often didn't raise too many questions, especially in a country with a high level of crime. Plus, up close and personal was my MO. More than half of my previous targets had been in a range of five yards or less. I had no patience for sniper training. No, this would have to do. I was was a very quick and quiet hunter, so I didn't worry too much about the target getting the upper hand. I could more than deal with it.

My heart picked up speed as movement caught my eye. People were starting to leave the building in groups of twos and threes. Higenyi would be last, as he was the host of the gettogether. Since he was still trying to keep a low profile, he would undoubtedly be alone. Just a couple more seconds and I would be on the move. At long last, I saw him slide out the side door. I got up from my position in the dark alleyway and started towards him in long strides. My clothes blended in the dark perfectly, and he didn't register my presence until I was almost on him. My hand gripped the pistol as he started to turn around. I could just make out the cresent shaped scar on his forehead and the deep black of his pupils. This was always the moment when my adrenaline took control of my body and all cohesive thought ceased. I exhaled.

His face, now completely square with mine registered a brief moment of surprise before all hell broke loose in the quiet space. A suppressed shot broke the stillness of the night. Higenyi raised a hand to his chest before dropping to the ground. He was dead within seconds. I looked at my weapon in shock. No, it wasn't my bullet. My finger wasn't any where near the trigger yet. The sound had to of been from a silenced rifle. I looked around me in the long moments that followed. Someone else was here! There was no way that they hadnt seen me raise my weapon, and they would know that I knew they were there and would expect retaliation. After a split second, my paralysis broke and I sprinted like h* back to the dark alleyway. I had to get out of there, and quickly. Whoever the other sniper was, he could have all the money from both of our employers. I was only worried about my own skin. Everything was going wrong.

Somewhere in the back of my conciousness, I heard heavy footfalls tracking me step for step. From the sound of it, whoever he was wasn't too far behind me. Damn my luck! I had never been a runner and my strength was fading fast. I dug my feet in and flew across the cobblestoned street, frantically trying to find somewhere to escape. My pursurer also picked up the pace, and before too long I could feel him right on my heels. Just a few feet up ahead, I could make out the outline of a chainlink fence. If I could just make it there, I could get up and over with no problem. I sucked in a breath for one last push-and thats when my attacker tackled me to the Earth. My reflexes kicked in, and I threw my hands out to protect my head from smacking against the ground. The force of the impact would have been enough to split my head open like an old watermelon. I rolled over and drew my knife slashing at my attacker's face, but he stopped my hands with his.

"Well isn't this a can of fucking shit?" A familiar voice boomed over me. Through the dim streetlights, I could finally make out his face. Martin Christopher Keamy. A can of fucking shit was right. I shoved at him with both hands, and he muffled the sounds of my struggles with one big hand. He shook his head and I ceased my flailing. Keamy got up off from me and jerked me to my feet, taking my knife with ease. Before I could protest, two other sets of footsteps ran up as he held my hands behind my back, placing the knife to my spine. His friends. They couldn't see what he was doing to me, but that didn't make me feel any better.I was sorely outnumbered. I stopped struggling against his arms and he lowered the knife. He took his other palm and placed it on my side.

"This the other shooter?" Shortie asked, taking another step toward me with a sinister look on his face. He pulled out his own knife and looked to Keamy for permission to proceed. I shuddered internally. There was no telling what kind of torture training this guy had. He grinned at me in a way that made me intensely grateful for the Alpha Male pressing up against me. I retreated back into Keamy a step.

"Yeah, we oughta take care of that, boss." The other one said and quickly scanned the perimeter. We hadn't drawn attention yet, and with some surprise I registered that we weren't being followed. At all. It was unlikely Higenyi's body had even been discovered yet. If these two had disposed of it, that added another layer of shit to the fucking shit pile.

"Nah, you fucking idiots, you let him get away. I told you to scan the goddamn area before Higenyi showed up! I oughta put you both down like the dogs you are-you almost cost us the whole goddamn operation." They both looked down at this and Shorty lowered his weapon. "This is my girl from the bar. She came back looking for me for a good fuck, ain't that right, sweetheart?" His voice drew out on the last word, matching Shorty inch for inch on being sinister. He was scary as shit in this particular persona.

I nodded eagerly, understanding what he wanted immediantly. Chris must have taken the shot while the other two stood watch at the opposite end of the alleyway. They hadn't seen me flee the scene. I turned toward him and stretched up on my tiptoes, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. I noticed at some point that he had already sheathed my knife. All to the good, so far as I could tell. "I haven't had a good fuck in a while. Especially with a Marine. Just coming back to meet you after your business was over so you could take me back to your room." His hands slid down to my sides in response to this, and I let out a girlish squeal. "Oh, Chris!" I draped my arms around him and peered at the other two from the side.

The other two nodded, seeming unsurprised by this information. "Sorry, 1st SGT, we didn't know. We need to get off the streets, though. You gonna meet us at the rendevous point in the morning?" Keamy nodded at this, but otherwise said nothing. He waved at them dismissively. "10-4. We'll see you then." And with that, they took off running into the night. I breathed out a heady sigh of relief. I might actually make it out of this night in one piece. I had just one moment to catch my breath before Keamy drug me off in the direction of what I assumed was the local POS inn. I pulled back against him, planting my feet into the ground, but it was no use. He was way too strong for me to fight.

"No fucking way, Sweetheart." He murmured sarcastically. "I just saved your sorry ass. You've got some explaining to do." He guided me up a short flight of stairs when we reached the inn, with his hands clamped around me like vices. I was going to have bruises on them in the morning. He reached in his pocket for a key and opened the last door on the walkway. I hesitated again, wondering if he was just bringing me back here to kill me in private. He sighed at my resistance. All of a sudden, he had thrown me over into his shoulder and continued forward without a second to waste. I sighed back at him. What the fuck ever.

We walked into one of the shabbiest rooms I'd ever had the misfortune of seeing. Roaches scattered back under the small cot in the corner and the barren walls had cracks in the paint. They also had several holes in them which I could only take to be bullet holes. He finally let go of my body and tossed me towards the cot half-heartedly. I landed on my feet with a thud. Ouch. This one was not too gentle. I looked up at him and met his gaze. Oh, he was PISSED. "Now just what in the holy hell happened back there?" He asked, crossing his arms in front of him with my knife now curled up in his left hand. So, we were back to this again. Great.

"I don't answer to you, Chris. I don't have to say a goddamn thing." I moved to go for the door, but he blocked me easily with the arm not holding the blade. "And I want my fucking knife back." I growled at this and swatted at the arm holding the blade. He held it above my head like a boy teasing a girl on the schoolyard.

He surprised me by laughing. "You don't have the right to demand anything. The way I see it i just saved you a shit ton of trouble. If youre gonna say anything, you might as well throw me a sumbitching thank you." I moved to push against him and he gently nudged me back again. Well, as gentle as he could be. The effect still had me staggering back. "Do you have any idea who those guys are? Do you have any idea who I am? Or the things we could do to you for getting in the way? You better thank your lucky stars it was me that caught you, and not the Brit. The things I've seen him do would give you nightmares."

"DO you have any idea who I am?" I stared him down, this time with no real fear in my voice. If he was going to screw with me, I'd go down swinging. That was for d* sure. Wasn't he the one that just cost me 3.4 million dollars? I had every right to be pissed.

"No, that's the point. And I want fucking answers. Real ones this time and not the shit you threw at me in the bar, Ivy. I'm not gonna rat you out if you can be straight with me." He shrugged at this and held my gaze for a moment before taking a milisecond to look me up and down. I took a step closer to him and he let me.

Taking advantage of his distraction, I slid my knife out of his hand and sliced upward with it, grazing just below his throat. I held it there for a second before realizing he had swiped ME of my pistol and had it lodged in my side. To hell with this! I snarled at him, ready to cut him open just for the audacity of disarming me not once, but twice! He twisted the gun at an upward angle, the barrel jamming uncomfortably into my ribs. "I don't think so. I'll slit your throat right here just to eliminate the risk. Youre screwing with the wrong girl, jerk off." I let the blade tip inward just enough to draw a single drop of blood. He gave me a cruel smile.

"So I'm back to jerk off now?" He smirked down at me, rolling the barrel in to my ribs at a painfully slow pace. "I thought we had graduated to Chris." His free hand came to rest on my hip again. He guided me closer to him instead of pushing me away. I rolled my eyes at him. He was such an arrogant prick. Just when I thought I knew what to expect of him, he let that cocky side out to play all over again. "Now be a good girl, and say 'Thank you, Chris.'"

I removed the knife and jabbed it forward, driving it into the wall beside his head. "I'm going to get my gun back too." I murmured, ignoring his remarks and pulled his head down to mine, forcing my lips onto his. I felt his arm slack, dropping the gun to the floor with a clang and he dragged me to him roughly with both hands. "Thank you for that." I whispered, and felt a ghost of a smile on his lips before he gripped my hips and lifted me up onto his waist. I wrapped my legs around him like iron bars and guided my fingers underneath his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. He allowed this to happen with a moan. I reveled in the feel of his skin on mine, and his muscles-damn him for his muscles. My body didnt even drop with the break in contact. He held me against the wall with only his hips.

"Someone is eager." He murmured into my skin and I could feel his teeth scraping my neck. It was a pleasant sort of pain and it lit me on fire all over again. I leaned into the sensation and let him devour my taste. No one had ever touched me so agressively, and I couldn't get enough of his need. The adrenaline flew through my veins as I clawed at his muscular chest. I left tiny little crescent shapes in the skin before they faded away. I was going to have to push harder to make much of an impact. He was solid rock, there was no doubt about it, and that knowledge only encouraged me to dig deeper. His teeth on my skin bit hard as he found my pulse point.

"Oh!" I whimpered in surprise. It was refreshing to find a man who didn't handle me like a piece of glass. His big hands fiddled with the buttons on my worn out blouse while his hips keep me pinned between him and the wall. Our kisses became more frantic as I felt the air hit my exposed skin. His hands found the last button as his lips reconnected with mine and we were moving again, this time with him unsnapping the back of my bra and him throwing me on the small cot in the corner. He tossed both articles of clothing to the side and went to his knees at the end of the cot, just looking at me.

"What?" I gasped out, suddenly missing his touch and his mouth on mine. His eyes looked at me hungrily and he crawled his way down the bed to rest over top of me. The intensity of his look made me shiver and his eyes tracked the movement up my body. My hands ghosted over the button of his jeans and the hard bulge pressing against them. He moaned at the touch and then pressed his lips to me once more as I undid the button. I slid the jeans down a quarter of an inch before he was back on top of me.

"I'm appreciating the view, and fuck-I have wanted you like this since I first walked into that shithole bar." His hand slid down to undo my jeans, elliciting little shivers along the way, and he pulled back to peel them off from me. He left my panties on, however and came back to lay beside me. He reclaimed my mouth with his, and his hand ghosted down the length of my body before slipping beneath the waistband of my panties. "I honestly don't know how long I can hold out here. It's taking every ounce of willpower i got not to rip these off from you, "I moaned as his long fingers curled in side of me. I braced myself against his forearm. My whole worldview was on fire just from the sensation of his touch "And fuck the shit out of you."

His declaration made me moan once more at I hit my peak. My body trembled underneath him and I whispered, "Then fuck the shit out of me." I reached down and grabbed at him with my free hand, feeling the length of him through his boxers.

He peeled off the remaining clothes between us and hovered above me, as I gripped his forearms and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him down. He was in me without preamble and I cried out from the shock of it. I wasn't prepared for his viciousness-It rivaled mine in every way. I dug my nails into his back and pulled him towards me, and the action encouraged him to set a frenzied pace. He took one arm off the cot and braced himself against the wall behind me. I was thankful for the consideration as my head would have banged repeatedly against the fragile wall. I pushed against him again and he took the hint, rolling over to pull me on top of him. His eyes were wild and he greedily took in every inch of me, pausing here and there to run his hands on my body. I set a frantic pace of my own, and he matched me thrust for thrust. I felt the pressure building within me until I screamed out his name and collapsed on top of him like jello. My legs were shaking, and the intensity of him, of THIS, was too much for me to bear. He rolled us over once again and fucked me ruthlessly, all the while listening to my cries of more. Finally, he grunted and thrust once, then once more, and collapsed on top of me.

The pressure of him probably should of been too much for me, but I found I didn't mind it. I lazily ran my hands along his back and up to his hair while his head shifted to rest on my chest. I marveled over the little crescent shaped scratches that were bleeding down his back. Had I really grasped him so tightly? I looked down at him again, with his ear pressed along my left breat. He was listening to my heartbeat. It was such an oddly intimate scene that I almost commented on the absurdity of it. After all, wasn't it I that had held a knife to his throat only an hour earlier? Hadn't he held a gun to my side? I chuckled softly and toyed with the dog tag that had gone awry on his naked back. I righted the tag and let out a sigh.

"I'm never going to get an answer out of you, am I?" His muffled voice spoke into my breasts. The sensation tickled and I told him so.

"I was hired to kill Higynei. My employer told me to make it look like he was mugged. I was supposed to get a big, fat paycheck for it." I sighed. "I guess that isn't going to happen now, since you beat me to the punchline."

He hoisted himself onto his elbows and looked at me, all of the cockiness gone from his face. He looked downright shocked. "You know, Ivy. I actually believe that story is true." He rolled over to the side and propped himself up on his elbow, looking at me. "Whoever sent you here probably had a good idea that you would be killed in the process." He placed his free hand on my stomach, tracing circles around my belly button. I twitched at his touch, but he didn't seem to notice this time. "I guess it's too much to ask who hired you."

"What does it matter now? I'm going to have to disappear for a while. Charles Widmore sent me. He didn't tell me why he wanted the guy dead, just that he was a political figure and he wanted it to look innocent. Well, he wanted it to look like someone tried to rob him, not someone trying to take him out personally." His face darkened at my words, unnerving me. What could he be thinking? "I'm good at what I do. Over 100 kills in the last decade. The story struck me wrong, but I usually don't ask to many questions when someone is offering me over three million dollars." I sighed. "Three million f*ing dollars."

"Have you worked for this guy before? Widmore?"

"No. Usually I work for a man named Linus. He has me take people out for him from time to time. I've never seen him. But his money checks out, so like I said, I don't ask any questions. But, when the offer came from Widmore, I couldn't pass the opportunity up. I thought, 'Its time for me to go sit on a beach somewhere and live out the rest of my days.'"

"That's happening sooner than you think."

"Why do you say that?"

He hesitated. "Because Widmore hired me too."

I shot up like I'd been struck by lightening. "WHAT?"

"Yeah. He hired me and the guys a couple of weeks ago. Said this guy had too much information and that he needed to be silenced. He told us that there'd likely been another shooter there, from a competitor, and to take them out. We were supposed to get extra for getting the other assassin. That's why I had to bring the dumbasses along with me. To scout the area. We had no idea we were looking for you." He ran his hand through his hair again. "This is big. Bigger than just some guy trying to take you out. I found out why he wanted Hygenyi killed."

He got up and walked over to where he had discarded his pants on the floor and pulled a folded up piece of paper out of the pockets. My mind was racing so fast, I didn't even register his impressive backside. Widmore had wanted me killed? But why? Why would he be displeased with me if he had never hired me for work before? Unless-unless it had something to do with my previous kills and my previous employer. Did he know about the Island? Did he know about Ben Linus? Chris walked back over to the bed, unfolded the paper, and placed it on my chest.

It was a black and white photograph of bodies. Rows and rows of bodies lying on the ground wrapped in shrouds. I gulped.

"Hygeni ordered the mass evacuation of graves down near the border in Thailand. Hundreds of bodies. He had the contacts to keep it quiet. And this guy, Widmore, he ordered them." He laid back down on the bed and gazed into my shocked face. "Don't ask me why, I don't have a fucking clue. All I know is Hygenyi ran back here to hide from his fate. He knew he was expendable."

"If you found this out, why did you agree to the job?"

"Same reason as you. I'm fucking good at it. I want a fat paycheck, and I want to retire on a beach someday." He laid back and put his hands behind his head. "Still doesn't explain why he'd set you up. Unless you killed someone he liked. Then he figured he'd taken care of two birds with one stone, I guess." I folded the paper back and sat it on his jeans. I settled back into his chest and one muscular arm wrapped around my body.

"Whatever the reason, this guy can afford to buy hundreds of dead a*holes. However I pissed him off, he'll come at me again if he finds out where I'm at. I'm gonna have to disappear." I nuzzled my head into his chest and his thumb rubbed my back. "For what it's worth, thanks for not killing me. I'm in the clear now with your buddies, and you've bought me enough time to escape. Thank you."

"I think that's the nicest damn thing you've said so far." He laughed. "We're having a genuine fucking halmark moment." He kissed my hair. And for the record, I'm mostly glad I didn't kill you either." I rolled my eyes at this jab, but did not comment. "Close your eyes. Get some sleep while you can."

"Okay." I nuzzled into his chest again but my mind was racing. Widmore was trying to have me killed because of my history with Ben Linus. I was no dumb bunny, and that explained almost everything that had happened tonight. Linus had offered me a chance to come to what he called "The Island" several times, but I had always refused. Maybe now it was time to take him up on that offer. I waited for an hour or two, listening to the sound of Chris' breathing. When I was convinced he had entered deep sleep, I got up quietly gathering my things and slipped out into the night.

When I'd gotten a good distance away from the inn, I took out my satellite phone. I called a number that I'd committed to memory, but had never dared dial before. It rang several times before a familiar voice came over the line.

"Hello?"

"Ben. It's Ivy."

"Ivy, what are you doing calling this number?"

"Your old friend Widmore found me. Tried to kill me. I need to get the hell out of dodge."

End of Part 2


	3. Chapter 3

Part three

I sat in the sand, wearily smushing my toes in and out of the water washing up on the beach. In the last 72 hours, I had travelled over 7000 miles to Australia. And not just by plane, either. I took several connecting flights after going a good distance by car-and I took one interesting boat ride across the Indian Ocean. This was all at Ben's insistence. I couldn't just board a flight and head straight to my destination. I was being watched by some very powerful people. Supposedly, Widmore wanted to find the "Island" more than anything else in the world, and he couldn't be allowed to find it. Australia was an odd choice though. It was heavily populated, and had considerable surveillance. As soon as I entered the country, I knew that I'd been spotted by someone or something. I stole a glance at the little motorboat waiting to my left. I was to sit on this beach until I saw a flashing red light over the water. That would be the signal from the submarine. I had twenty minutes to drive the little boat out to the sub and board it before takeoff. If I wasn't there within the window, it would leave without me and I would be on my own.

"A submarine? You people have a submarine? What in the world for?" I had asked him on that warm night in Uganda. This was starting to sound like a military deal. Ben had never struck me as a military guy from our previous conversations, but I had never worked for a employer that had access to a sub. Sub ownership screamed connections. "Just exactly where am I going?" I was getting pretty sick of the vague description of the Island. Which Island was it, and why was there so much secrecy surrounding it? What corner of the world was it in? Why couldn't I just take a boat there? Evidently, these were not answers that I was going to get.

"We have a situation here, Ivy. Tom will meet you in Sydney, and he will give you any information you will need before takeoff. If you can make it to the edge of Uganda alive, there will be a plane waiting for you in Nairobi, Kenya. The pilot will have your papers for your connecting flight. Be quick. We only have a limited time-frame to work with." And with that, he'd disconnected the line, leaving me standing in the street with my mouth hanging wide open. Ben had always been quick and to the point, and he never left room for questions in our conversations. He was good at talking and manipulation, but I was happy that he was still willing to shelter me on the Island. I was so shocked that I didn't see the dark figure watching me from the corner of the street. I just took off running.

Things were pretty calm until I had gotten into Kenya. I no longer bothered with my disguise as it didn't seem to do me a lot of good. I had paid a trucker to drive me to Nairobi in the back of a livestock trailer. It had been the most uncomfortable ride I'd been on in a long time, and the smells rivaled the worst I had ever expierenced. But the driver hadn't asked me any questions about myself and got me across the border with no hassle whatsover. After that, I wasted no time locating the little tarmac in Nairobi.

A small plane awaited me at the beginning of the dirt strip. A large man exited the plane as I walked up, carrying my gear over my left shoulder. The heat was absolutely excruciating during this time of the year. I dropped my bag to the ground and reached up to shield my eyes from the sun. I greeted the pilot in Swahilli and he bent to pick up my one piece of luggage. How sad it seemed-that these were the only possessions I'd be leaving the real world with. All was happening according to the timeline Linus had given me. I was preparing to board myself, with the pilot's hand extended towards me, when a shot rang out into the air. The pilot staggered back, with a shot to his arm. It had just barely missed me. I scrambled up the remaining rungs of the ladder and flattened myself to the ground.

"Get this damn plane into the air, now!" I screamed to the pilot and ducked behind the door to the plane, pulling it shut behind me. Who the hell would have tracked me all the way here? I listened intently as shots littered the flimsy metal frame. They were coming from the left-roughly 10 o'clock. The shooter wasn't too far away, either. I grabbed the bundle of grenades I always kept in my bag, and slung my rifle over my shoulder. I inhaled and opened the door, preparing to hold the shooter off for as long as I could.

Bullets came in through the open door way, popping like popcorn on an open burner. I pulled the pins on a couple of grenades and tossed them out the open door before shouldering my rifle and squeezing off a few blind shots. Someone screamed in the treeline, and the shots silenced temporarily as the grenedes went off. There was no way that I could have hit the guy, but I was just looking for a distraction. Faintly, I picked up the sound of yet another rifle going off in the treeline-but this time, no bullets hit the plane. Another shooter had joined in on the fun? That was just great. I ducked my neck around the open doorway and nothing came at me again-but the treeline was far from silent. Shots exploded in the air. There were definitely two shooters hidden in the trees.

The plane lurched forward as we started coasting down the tarmac. I slid forward on my knees as the pilot's voice came overhead, cautioning me to take my seat and put my seatbelt on. No shit, asshole. I stretched forward and drew the plane door shut again and scrambled my way to my seat. I heard the sounds of gunfire as I peeked out the window. My heart stopped and I was unable to look away from the now-exposed shooter. It was the Brit. He had followed me here all the way from Uganda. He must have known that I was the other shooter all along. He had waited for a chance to take me down and he'd taken it. I watched as his face faded back into the treeline.

Nothing else had happened on my way to Australia.

I had met up with Tom at his hotel room in Sydney. He was quite a character, and I liked him from the moment I laid eyes on him. He loved to talk about all manner of things, and he loved taking advantage of his time off the Island. I was weary from all the travelling I had done over the last couple of days, but he seemed to take no notice of my demeanor. I politely chose not to notice that he was entertaining a young (and very naked) male prostitute in his room. We chatted about the Island for a few minutes. He didn't have much time to waste, as he on his way to New York from the sound of it. New York seemed like an odd choice to me, but the oddities of my life as of late kept me from lingering on the significance of it. I nodded absentmindedly as he went through his spiel.

"It's gonna be a bumpy ride, Red. I'm not gonna lie to ya." He handed me some slips of paper as he sipped on his wine. His cheeks were a rosy red, and he paced across the room cheerfully prattling on. His robe opened up on the return trip and I had to mentally not notice things again. Holy fuck. I flashed a bright red and glanced quickly down at the papers.

They were maps of an Island. But it wasn't any Island I had ever heard about. It didn't seem to be too big, and there were icons marked 'Dharma Stations' littered throughout the length of the Island. They were on land and on the sea. I was entrigued by this, because the name 'Dharma' didn't ring any bells. Maybe it really was some secret army installment, or at least it had been at some point in time. If I hadn't heard of it, maybe no one else had heard of it either outside of Widmore and Linus' people. A secret Island.

"This is some top secret shit isn't it?" I rifled through the pages. Cerberus? Like the three-headed dog that guarded the gates of hell? It was centered in the locations outside of the Barracks and the other Dharma stations. It was possibly some kind of a high-tech security system. That would make sense, since they were so sensitive to the idea of outsiders. I made a mental check to stay away from any and all locations marked Cerberus.

"You have no idea." He paused and pressed a kiss on the young man's cheek. Some how Justin (at least I think his name was Justin) had wrapped himself around Tom's body. I politely kept my eyes on Tom's face. He grinned. "Once you get to the Island, you're to go straight to the Temple. Ben probably won't be meeting ya. We have a hostile situation." He tsked at this and came to sit down on the large couch in the foyer. I joined him on the plush cushions. In the back of my mind, I wondered how they could possibly fund all of this? But Tom was small game compared to Linus, and he probably didn't know or care.

I raised my eyebrows. "A hostile situation? Is that what he needed me to handle?" It would make sense that he would want payment in exchange for my sanctuary. In fact, I had been expecting Ben to mention something like that during our short phone call. When he hadn't brought it up, I had patiently waited for the other shoe to drop. Murder and gunfire were fine by me, since this time I would have a powerful ally on my side. I could certainly be a pawn in his war-so long as he supplied me with good weapons.

"No need. You need to guard the Temple. If anyone tries to get in or out, they get a bullet to the head until further notice. Or a knife to the throat. I heard that's your specialty." He popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and poured us both a glass. I shuddered. Gross. Hard liquor was really more to my taste, but I sipped on it respectfully enough. It was bubbly and way too sweet, but alcohol was alcohol. I took another big sip. He smirked again at my reaction.

"Yes sir, it sure is." I felt the weight of my pistol in my back, and looked at my bag of weapons in the corner. The bag of grenades, an old rifle, and my collection of knives. I always kept a lot of knives around whenever I travelled. You never know when you're going to get close and personal with the enemy. Sometimes gaining intelligence was more important than having the highest body count. That was where I had always excelled in combat. Sure-guns expedited the killing-and any idiot out there could pick one up and take a couple of guys out. However, I liked taking on more delicate jobs than that. The darkness inside of me grinned for a moment before I snapped back into the present.

"Alright, well head on down to the pier. You know the one I'm talking about. When you see the lights in the sky, head on out there. If you're late, they'll go without you. It's likely the last trip that the Galaga is going to take. Things are changing around here. Widmore's been watching your every move." He downed the glass of champagne and filled another, waving the bottle at me. I shook my head. No more alcohol for me tonight. My mind was still reeling from the Uganda incident. And of Keamy...

"He really faked the crash of Oceanic Flight 815, hunh?" It definitely explained the purchase of the dead bodies. I had heard about 815 during my travels. Some famous rock star has been had been on the infamous flight, along with a fugitive and some other notorious characters. If my employers were to be believed, these people were very much alive and they were on the Island. It seemed insane to fake their deaths and to lead their loved ones to believe they hadn't made it. But if I'd learned anything, Widmore was a man of power and influence. He really wanted this Island, and if they were on it, they were expendable too. They were expendable like me.

"He don't want anyone to find the Island but him. It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't hire another assassin to take you out. You're a friend of Ben and you know too much. Keep on your guard." He rested a hand on my knee and patted softly. I ordered the papers in my lap and met his gaze. "We'll take care of it. You'll like it there, I think. Just stay away from any survivors and head straight to the Temple. That's not a fight you want to get into-trust me." His voice was sincere enough, and I nodded.

"Will do."

And with that I had left the hotel and headed down to the beach to bide my time. There was no alcohol involved this time. I couldn't take it after everything that had happened before. I needed to keep my mind free and clear. From the sound of things, I'd be leaving normal life-if you could really call what I'd been doing for the last decade normal-for a long time. There was a good possibility that I would be on the Island forever. I would be dealing with Dharma stations, survivors, and something called Cerberus. I was okay with it for the most part, but it was still kind of sad. I never really got a chance to enjoy the little things in this life, and now there wouldn't be any more little things. If I'd learned anything from my conversations with Linus and his people, everything on the Island mattered. My isolation would mean nothing in the grand scheme of things. I shivered as a breeze cause my bare arms unexpectedly.

"Cold, Ivy?" A voice asked to my side.

I jumped, startled out of my wits, and pulled my Ruger on the stranger who'd managed to sneak up on me. I recoiled almost as quickly. It was Keamy. I should have known better. My fleeting memories hadn't done him justice. He was still as imposing and handsome as ever. He was wearing a white tank to show off his arms and wore faded blue jeans to complete his rugged look. His blue eyes bored into my head and I could feel the betrayal and hurt there. I shivered as another gust of wind hit me. I exhaled and lowered my weapon. "Now, how did I know you were going to find me again?" I looked out at the water and wrapped my arms around myself, still holding the gun. "How did you find me, Chris?"

He came over to sit beside me. I relaxed just a little bit and leaned into the pressure of his leg on mine. It was reassuring to have him here. The finality of it seemed oddly perfect in the moment. He was the only person left in my old life that I could actually say goodbye to. I stole a glance at him and found he was staring out at the water too. He spoke to the waves. "You tried to vanish on me. I take that shit personally. But in all fairness, you're a difficult woman to track. I almost lost you in Kenya." I froze at the memory of Kenya, of the Britt stepping out of the jungle. Keamy lowered his voice to almost a whisper. "I'd known him for a long time. Putting a bullet in his brain..." He trailed off, seemingly not knowing how to proceed.

So, he'd killed the Brit. Which means he'd been following me too, all the way from Uganda. How would I have responded if he'd gotten there sooner? What if he'd gotten to the Brit first and approached me at the plane door? But I couldn't live my life on What-ifs. I leaned over to rest my head on his shoulder. I decided to ignore the Brit thing altogether. It was his private pain, and I respected that. If he wanted to elaborate-he would do it. "I know, it was a shitty thing to do, walking out like that, but I honestly thought it was the right thing to do. I'm going to be going away for a long time-possibly forever. A good fuck then some halfhearted goodbye didn't seem like that way to end things." I hated the words as soon as they left my mouth, but I couldn't find it in me to take them back. He needed to know that this was the end of whatever had started between us. Cutting him off was the best way to do that.

"No, i get it." He surprised me with his acceptance and lack of agression. He moved his arm to wrap tightly around my waist and I nuzzled into his side. I sighed as we looked up at the millions of stars overhead. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "It fucking sucks, though." I turned my head up to plant a kiss on his jawline before I had time to think about it. He twitched at the contact and I smiled again-it was a smile only he seemed to get out of me. He was starting to get some stubble on his chin-something I knew he'd hate and would have to deal with soon. I liked it, though. It completed his whole alpha-male persona. "You drive me crazy, red." Something in his voice tugged at my heartstrings. It was so honest. He still wasn't looking at me, and I could tell he was struggling with some thought or decision he was trying to make. His vulnerability was driving me crazy.

I took my left hand and laid it across his stubbly cheek and pulled his lips down to meet mine. He gave into it with a sigh, with something mixed into it that almost sounded like relief. It wasn't forceful or angry like it'd been during our previous encounter, but instead it was sweet and kind of sad in a way. I broke us apart after a few minutes and rested my head on his chest again. I could feel his lips on my hair, and it was almost too much to bear. What had happened to the man who scared me most of the time? This man made me more nervous than that one. I grappled for the words to tell him. "You feel good, Chris. You feel like freedom." It didn't seem like enough to say, but my mind was drawing a blank. It was all too surreal to put into words. I just lay there, inhaling the scent of him and listening to his rapid heartbeat. I felt his lips on my hair again, the gesture drawing a single tear to my eye. I did not let it fall.

All too soon, I saw the flashing red lights pulsating across the water. It was time for me to go. I pulled away from him and got quickly to my feet. I turned my back to him, as for the first time, I was unable to meet his eyes. I would lose all of my nerve if I did. "That's my cue. See you in another life." I picked up my bag and started to walk over to the boat, but the sound of radio feedback caught my ear. I froze again as Chris' voice spoke over the channel with the cold (yet comforting) authority that always scared me. Keamy was back in action.

"They're here. I'll keep her still until you make the rendezvous point. Track my coordinates. Keamy, over and out."

I turned around to face the barrel of Keamy's revolver. It was leveled at my head, and he had crept up on me to where he was so close that the impact would split my head apart. It had to be a .44 magnum. Keamy wouldn't carry anything less for this top of job. There was no room for mistake when dealing with a dangerous advesary. A dangerous person like me. My jaw dropped to the ground for what felt like the millionth time that day. He had betrayed me, and that was something that could not be forgiven. The utter shock of it hit me like a train. All of the internal turmoil he'd been going through was all an act for my benefit. To keep me in place. I was a means to an end, as I always had been in the past.

"You were following me, for Widmore? You traitorous bastard!" I edged closer to him, but the weapon in his hand raised and he cocked the trigger with one swift moment. I pushed my head to the barrel and he hesitated, giving me all the time I needed to make up my mind. "I can't believe I trusted you! I almost started to...It doesn't matter!" My hands were shaking uncontrollably, clenching in and out into tiny fists. I wanted to hurt something. Him. I needed to hurt him.

"Widmore was gonna keep hunting you, Ivy. I made a deal so you get to live-you don't have to disappear! They just wanted to take the submarine. That's it. If you want me to say I'm sorry, I'm damn sure not going to do it. Do you know the kind of shit Linus has done? The innocent people he's killed?" His voice dropped back into that condescending mask of villainy and I almost lost it in his cold stare. He was mocking me.

"Oh, like you're some saint, right?" I snorted. "Don't make me laugh. We're all doing it for some reason or another." There had to be some way out of this! My eyes darted back and forth to our surroundings. There wasn't any way to warn the sub that his friends were coming. I had my back against the sea and he was blocking my only other way out. I couldn't make it to the boat without him trapping me. I backed up a couple of steps into the water. He tracked the movement, but did not follow me. He didn't fire the gun, either.

"That's not the point. The point is that Linus will kill you when you are no long worth any value to him. If you go with him, that's exactly what you'll be. He's not exactly searching for body guards. No one can find the damn place. Widmore's been looking for years. The second you get there, he'll probably take you out. Widmore at least can be reasoned with!" The soft tone had returned, and he wavered again in his resolve. His eyes were boring into me like the night he'd taken me in the Inn. They burned into my soul. My heart finally broke.

"You are such a fool, Chris." The sound of a horn bleated in the distance and he glanced away, for only a second. I pulled the Ruger from my waist and fired at his chest. There was no hesitation and no second guessing on my part as the shot broke the silence of the night. He staggered back in shock and I punched the revolver from his grip. It smacked to the ground with a thud and he sank to his knees. I fell to the ground beside him, clutching his body with my tiny hands. He must have put all of his strength into staying up, because I didn't have the power to support his weight all on my own. I tore off a piece of my shirt and pressed it tightly to his wound, taking his right hand and replacing it with mine. He lay back onto the sand.

"I just wanted to save you. I wanted to do one good thing in my life." His blue eyes fixated on me and I kissed his brow. I closed my eyes as I kept my lips pressed to his hot forehead. I couldn't let him get me killed just because he was batting for the wrong team. And he was wrong about this. I had to run away before this man destroyed what was left of my resolve. He could make me or break me with just one look. I couldn't go down like this. The tears once again threatened to break the dam, but I refused to let them.

"I know. You hesitated back there." I gripped both sides of his face. "You could overpower me now and you're not doing it. Your team will be here soon. Just let me go, okay? That will save me." He raised a bloody palm and pulled me to him, the metallic taste of blood overpowering the kiss. With a heavy heart, I got up and headed toward the motorboat. "I could have loved you, Keamy. Please don't hate me for this." This time, I didn't stop as I got in and started the engine. Silent tears finally broke through and dropped to the floor of the boat.

Keamys POV*

I picked up the gun and leveled it at the back of her head as she got into the boat. Her red hair glowed in the moonlight. It was a clear shot, a goddamn perfect shot, and I could end all of this with one pull of the trigger. Her hair swung into her face as she reached to start the engine. She was so goddamn beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her. She was the Devil in human form and I was Death. That thought hurt more than the gaping hole just over my chest. I watched as she lifted one hand to wipe at her face. Holy hell, she was crying over me. I lowered the gun back to my side, and I watched her drift out to the glowing red lights. As I slowly lost consciousness, I met her eyes as she looked back at me. She mouthed what looked like 'I love you'-I love you too, Ivy...Darkness washed over me.

"1st Sgt Keamy." A British voice cut through my fog like a goddamn knife. Oh, shit, the Brit was back? I groggily searched my memory. Didn't I shoot that motherfucker in the head a couple of days ago? Man. I must finally be in hell. That was a huge get for the devil. There were gonna be a lot of assholes waiting in line to get at me.

I opened my eyes and blurrily looked around the room. My head was spinning. An old greying man was looking at me intently. There was so much white it caused my eyes to water. Oh. I was in a hospital room. The image of Ivy shooting me ran through my mind and her soft voice whispered over and over again. "Please don't hate me for this." I don't. I'd have shot me too, if the roles were reversed. The bandaged wound just to the right of my heart throbbed in pain and I winced against my will. What the fuck had the girl done to me? At least I wasn't in hell yet, although it damn sure felt like it. But, she'd shot me to the right. That was important. Somehow it was comforting to know she didn't shoot to kill this time. I looked back to the old man.

"Keamy. It's good to see you awake. You've been in a coma for the last week, but i've talked the staff into cauterizing your wound, and you're healing quite nicely." Cauterizing? Better technique than stiches if you were expected to be up and about quickly. That much was interesting. I reached a hand to the buttons on the side of the bed and lifted my head up all the way. I met his gaze.

"Who are you?" Although I already had a pretty good guess.

"Why, I'm your employer. Charles Widmore, at your service." He gave a tip of his head and patted the bedside. Oddly intimate gesture from a stranger. He must need something.

"What do you want from me? I failed to stop Ivy from getting on the sub." Again, the memory of her pulling the trigger hit me like a bomb. But what mattered more was my hesitation once she'd gotten into the boat. The sight of her tears in the sights of my .44...I had never missed a mark in my long and colorful career. I dealt in death. I wouldn't freeze up again, that was for damn sure.

"Yes, but you did slip that tracker on her at the last moment, didn't you? It worked, and we're able to find the Island now." He grinned at this and once again patted the bedside. "You got more done in one night than my stupid scientists have managed to do in the last decade." He looked just like the fox who'd finally gotten into the henhouse. I'd given that look myself more than once in my life. He was out for Linus' blood, and now he saw the opportunity to get his revenge.

"Congrats. Thanks for patching me up, but I don't really get the point of this social visit." I was sick of the foreplay and ready for the drugs to take me under again. They must have pulled them temporarily for our little chat. The throbbing worsened. "I'd really like my fucking pain meds back, now."

He ignored the deflection and fixed a knowing stare on me. "You devloped feelings for that girl, didn't you?" He nodded before hearing my reply.

The words didn't hit me right, but I couldn't really deny their truth. "What the fuck does it matter?" This was getting really fucking annoying. I hated small talk. I hated knowing bastards. I hate snobby little Brittish fucks hanging out in my room all damn day. "Cause you can just get the hell out for all I care."

"It matters, 1st Sgt Keamy, because you have quite the resume. And that's not even considering your distinguished military service." He held up a manilla folder in his hands. No doubt a complete dossier on me. I smirked. "You and your friends have made quiet an impression as mercenaries. Very successful."He frowned for a moment. "Except for the one who you called 'The Brit,' who met his demise a few days ago after chasing down a certain redhead in Kenya?"

"Yeah." There was no point in denying it. I'd killed the son of a bitch as he'd fired at Ivy's plane. He was dragging out the big artillery-some heavy duty explosives, and was going to bring the whole damn thing down. It was a justifiable kill.

"I have a job for you. And if you do it right, you and your girlfriend can slip away to anywhere your heart desires." He produced another envelope, this one with the words 'Benjamin Linus' on the top, and threw it onto my lap. "You'll be free of me, of Linus, and of the Island. You'll also never have to want for money ever again."

"What's the job?" I had to admit the promises were most likely bullshit, but Ivy had gone to that Island. Ben would have her, or at the very least, he'd know where she was. If i could get to him, i could get to her. He wouldn't trust any of his lackys with such leverage. And if I got to kill some of his assholes-well, that was all to the better. I'd done jobs like this dozens of times. I picked up the envelope and removed its contents.

"I'm assembling a team as we speak. They're going to the Island. And I want you to bring me Benjamin Linus."


End file.
